Chapter 4 – "Dirty Deals"
Monday – Steelpoint
The air was thick with humidity and tension. Jayce sat on the steps outside Maya's house, shirt off, smoke in hand, staring into nothing. After the bike heist, word had gotten out—fast. Too fast.
Dre came limping up the block, sweat trailing down his face.
"We got a problem, bro," he said, dropping next to Jayce.
Jayce didn't look at him. "Let me guess. Cops knew where we'd be again?"
Dre nodded. "Like they read our damn minds."
Rell joined, tossing a crumpled bag of chips on the porch.
"This some snake shit, Jay. Somebody snitchin'."
Jayce crushed his smoke beneath his heel.
"I wanna know who the fuck's mouth is runnin'. Today."
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The Search
Jayce, Rell, and Keisha hit the street hard.
They shook down a few low-tier pushers, slapped around some fence runners, and checked all the known hangouts. One dude even got pistol-whipped after getting smart.
But it wasn't until they rolled up on Sleepy, a neighborhood tweaker who heard everything and forgot nothing, that they got a lead.
Jayce yanked him by his stained hoodie.
"You hear anything 'bout a rat in my crew, Sleepy?"
Sleepy twitched. "A-Ayo man, I-I heard Tone been talkin'... He met with some dudes from the other side. Vargos. Real quiet-like."
Jayce's eyes darkened.
"Tone?"
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Confrontation
Later that night, Jayce rolled solo to the Back Alley Bar, where Tone always kicked it with a drink and two bitches on his lap like he was king of the hood.
Jayce walked in slow, chest up, eyes locked. The music didn't even faze him.
Tone looked up from his drink and smirked. "Look who crawled out the fuckin' dirt."
Jayce sat across from him, knocking over the second drink.
"You talkin' to the cops, Tone?"
Tone sipped. "That what the streets are sayin'? Man, fuck the streets."
Jayce stood up, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed his ass against the bar.
"You workin' with the Vargos? That true, bitch?!"
Tone smiled, blood on his teeth.
"You still don't get it, huh? We ain't kings. We pawns. And I ain't dyin' for your little bike games."
BAM!
Jayce socked him in the jaw, then slammed him onto a table, breaking the legs. The bar went silent.
Tone wheezed. "You ain't ready for what's coming…"
Jayce looked down, disgusted.
"Then you better pray you're gone before I find out what that is."
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Back at the Block
Keisha patched up Jayce's knuckles while Maya stared from the kitchen.
"So what now?" Rell asked.
"He was holding back," Jayce said. "He's scared of something bigger. I need to find out what."
Dre stepped in, face pale.
"Y'all might wanna see this."
He turned on the TV.
"Breaking news: Local known affiliate of Steelpoint's gang violence, Antoine 'Tone' Miller, found dead behind warehouse 17. Sources say execution-style. No suspects."
Everyone went quiet.
Keisha whispered, "Jay… you didn't?"
Jayce shook his head slowly.
"I didn't touch him after that fight."
Rell looked uneasy. "Then who the fuck did?"
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The Setup
That night, Jayce and the crew hit the rooftop of an old project building, watching the streets below.
Maya came up with a file folder—documents she "borrowed" from her city clerk job.
"You need to see this," she said, handing it to Jayce.
Inside were photos—photos of Tone meeting with men in suits, maps of Steelpoint docks, and a list of cargo schedules.
"What the hell is this?" Rell asked.
Jayce's voice was tight.
"It ain't just gang shit anymore. Someone's movin' product in this city. Big weight. And they're usin' our streets like a fuckin' doormat."
Keisha looked over the edge. "We takin' them down?"
Jayce didn't answer. He just lit another smoke, staring at the photo of Tone's last meeting.
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